


Vengeance

by oratorio



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 17:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13439340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oratorio/pseuds/oratorio
Summary: She knows how to light a fire in Kylo Ren's heart, she knows just how to cause him pain.And what beautiful, delicious pain it will be.





	Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this quick, short piece for a class, using the word prompt "Wild". It's a little experimental for me, and a different - shorter - slant on my longer one-shot. Focuses on Rey and Hux using sex to hurt Kylo Ren, knowing his feelings for Rey. Hope you enjoy it :)

The wild, red desert gave birth to this creature, he thinks, as her eyes sweep over him. Flat, hazel pools, assessing, judging. Not a twitch of muscle, no hint of teeth in her smile.

For a moment, he is a sandworm being watched by an eagle, circling, waiting for the moment to strike. For one such as he, the feeling is unfamiliar. He shifts on the spot, polished shoes squeaking against the smooth floor.

She presses close, her hands sliding over the starched black cotton of his uniform, twitching over the buckle. He bites the inside of his cheek, tasting blood, swallowing it down. His shoulders ache, muscles like elastic stretched taut.

Her breath, in his ear, is warm and sour.

“He loves me. I hate him. I know you do, too. When he knows… when he senses what we’ve done… the pain will be magnificent.”

“And the consequences?”

She laughs, a quick whipcrack of a thing. “We’re both too important to risk. He won’t do anything.”

He nods, his eyes slipping away. Focusing on the dull grey walls, the paperwork piled on his desk, the crisp white sheets on the bed, folded back just so.

Her hand cups his cheek, bringing his pale green gaze back to hers. She is cold and hot at the same time, he thinks, the burn of anger and the chill of survival. Never in his life had he admitted to fear, not when his father beat him, nor when he took his first command, no more than a child. He is not going to start now. And yet…

Her voice is low and heavy. “Do you want this?”

His nostrils flare, his throat bobbing. He nods again. She grins, and he is half surprised that her teeth are not pointed.

They’re sharp enough against the light, paper-thin skin of his neck, marking, bruising. Everything happens so fast that he wonders if he will remember a second of it, later. He knows that she will, knows she will relay it all to _him_ with the same wicked smile.

She discards everything into scattered piles trailing across the floor of his neat, orderly quarters, his bare, pale skin prickling in the icy air. Underneath the grubby linen of her tunic, she is all sandblasted tan skin, silvering scars trailing over her body from the years surviving in the barren lands of her birth. He doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know where to touch, but she moves herself over him so that he doesn’t have to think about it too much.

The heat of her body makes him think of the sun bearing down on the gritty sands of the desert, the arid landscape the same colour as her eyes. She wears her history in everything she is, every look she gives him, every grind of her hips. She is fire and devastation, chaos and danger.

And when he looks right at her, he is looking at all his long-nurtured ambition, all his careful precision, all his hard-won power, tossed into a whirling storm of boiling energy, of focus and passion he could never hope to match, let alone destroy.

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.


End file.
